


Disembodied Voices

by turbulenthandholding



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Non-Magical, Camping, Eventual Relationships, Horror, M/M, Paranormal, Paranormal Investigators, Pre-Slash, Slash, Suspense
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-22
Updated: 2016-10-22
Packaged: 2018-08-23 23:27:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8346949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/turbulenthandholding/pseuds/turbulenthandholding
Summary: Non-Magic AU - Paranormal researcher Draco Malfoy hires Charlie to take him into the Hoia-Baciu Forest in Romania, the Bermuda Triangle of Europe, a hotbed of paranormal and unexplained activity.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [disillusionist9](https://archiveofourown.org/users/disillusionist9/gifts).



> Based on a Halloween prompt request from disillusionist9 - disembodied voices. The Hoia-Baciu Forest is a real (creepy) place. I'm guessing this will end up with two or three more chapters. Thank you for reading!

Charlie Weasley heard the roar of an expensive engine outside of his cottage and sighed.  His latest client had arrived and Charlie’s initial impression of him stood--cocky, arrogant, spoiled--and Charlie wondered if his patience would stand.

 

Raising his arms above his head in a spine-elongating stretch, he exhaled and then ran his hands through his short red hair before stepping out of the front door of his cottage, onto the landing at the top of the twin staircases descending the front of the little log and stone house.

 

The gunmetal Aston Martin looked out of place to Charlie parked in front of his cottage at the edge of the Hoia-Baciu Forest in the late afternoon light.  There was nothing out of place about the pale blond head stepping out of the door, though; the man looked perfectly in keeping with the car, even in ripped jeans and fitted t-shirt Charlie was certain cost much more than the suit he’d bought for his brother Bill’s wedding.

 

Charlie climbed down the stairs and crossed his yard toward the car as the blond head bobbed in and out, removing cases of equipment from inside.  “You must be Draco,” Charlie said.  “Welcome to Romania.”

 

“Yes, and you must be Mr. Weasley.  Pleasure,” Draco returned, as he primly held out his hand.  Charlie gripped it strongly, glancing down at their joined hands, surprised at the calluses he felt in spite of Draco’s manicured nails.  

 

“Charlie.”

 

“Charlie, then,” Draco returned.  “Where can I store my equipment overnight?  Preferably indoors.”

 

“The first level of the house, follow me,” Charlie said, picking up one of the boxes Draco removed from the car.  “Are you going to be taking all of this with us?  I wasn’t planning on being this weighed down.”

 

“No,” Draco said.  “I wanted to be prepared for any possible conditions I may have found when I arrived.”  

 

Charlie opened the wooden door under the landing, and led Draco into the storage area under his cottage.  “Put your stuff anywhere...there’s shelves along the wall.  Come up when you’re done and you can get settled before we talk about the plan for tomorrow,” he said, leaving Draco to sort out his equipment.

 

“Aren’t you going to help me?  I hired you…” Draco began, in a tone indicating he was used to getting his way from hired help.

 

“Nope,” Charlie said, pausing at the door to give Draco a subtle glance.   _ Pretty rich boy _ , Charlie thought.

 

* * *

Draco eventually made his way up the staircase and into Charlie’s cottage.  The bulk of the home was one main room, kitchen and bedroom and living room all in one, furniture scattered around a large fireplace on the main wall.  Scanning the space, Draco assumed a small bathroom was tucked behind a red door in the corner.  Charlie’s back faced him as he stood at the stove, stirring what smelled like stew in a large pot.  

 

“There’s just the one bed,” Charlie began without turning around.  “You can have it.  I’ll take the sofa.  I’m sure the accommodations aren’t up to the manors and fancy hotels you’re used to, but it’s what I’ve got.”

 

“It’s fine,” Draco said, dropping the canvas bag of gear he was carrying.  “Not my first hunt.  Haunted forests aren’t usually located in the middle of London.”

 

“Hmmmm,” replied Charlie, still attentive to the aromatic stew on the stove.  “So what brings you to Hoia-Baciu?  Looking for something specific?”

 

Draco pulled out one of the high backed wooden chairs at the table and sat.  “Anything...everything.  Whatever I can find.  Something that’s never been seen before.”

 

“Ahh.  You and everyone else who comes here,” Charlie replied, ladling the stew into large red ceramic bowls.

 

“What about you?  You’re British.  How did you end up here, leading expeditions into the haunted forest?” Draco asked, watching Charlie through cool, grey eyes.

 

Charlie turned and set the bowls on the worn wood of the table, before gathering utensils, worn blue napkins, and cool bottles of ale.  “I came from a big family.  I left to find adventure, go somewhere where no one expected me to follow in my brothers’ footsteps.  I went to Berlin, and Prague, Vienna, Budapest, all around.  I followed a girl home to Bucharest, ended up here.”  He joined Draco at the table, tossing the napkin over his lap and taking a swig out of his bottle.

 

“So there’s a girl?” Draco asked, picking up his spoon.

 

“No, not anymore.  Tuck in,” Charlie said, and they ate the rest of the meal in silence, glancing sideways at each other over their bowls.

 

* * *

After pouring over maps of the forest to mark out their route, Charlie built a fire in the fireplace.  Darkness settled outside of the cottage as Charlie told Draco to go to sleep.  “We’ll have an early morning tomorrow.  Can you handle it, rich boy?” 

 

“I’m not as pampered as you seem to think, Weasley.  I’ll be fine,” Draco spat, as he headed toward the red door of the bathroom, closing it behind him with a sharp click.

 

Charlie, still crouching near the fire, rested his head against the stone of the fireplace, and sighed again.  It was going to be a long week.  Draco was...interesting, sharp edges and demands but pretty with a vague earnestness about his research.  But Hoia-Baciu had never been the same for Charlie since Ioana, and dread pushed at his stomach as the sounds of water falling in the bathroom echoed through the cottage.  Charlie wondered how long he would make himself stay, make himself keep searching for her...if there would ever be a reason  _ not to _ .  If he could let her go.

 

He pushed himself away from the stone and rose to walk over to his dresser, shedding his clothes into a pile on the floor in front of it.  He pulled on a worn pair of grey long underwear bottoms, slung low on his hips.  The bottom drawer of the dresser contained quilts and knit throws handmade by his mother, and he tossed the top two colorful blankets on the dark sofa.  Wandering through the cottage, turning off the lights until the cottage was illuminated by only firelight, Charlie walked to settle on the sofa.

 

The red door cracked open before Charlie could sit, and Draco emerged, firelight flickering over the muscles of his bare torso above his pajama bottoms.  “Interesting tattoo,” Draco said, eyes tracing the ink depicting a bird on Charlie’s chest.  

 

“Same goes,” Charlie answered, nodding in the direction of the skull and snake etched into Draco’s forearm.  It  _ almost _ seemed to move in the coruscating light of the fire.  “Take my bed, like I said.  I’m fine on the sofa,” he said as he dropped down onto the quilt-covered cushions.  “Need anything before I turn in?”

 

“No,” Draco said.  “I'll see you in the morning,” he reiterated as he settled into Charlie’s sizable bed.  The cottage settled into quiet, broken only by the creak of springs, the crackle of fire, the deep and even call and response of breath, and the odd whipping of the wind outside its doors.

 

* * *

Day had barely broken when Charlie and Draco were off on foot, strapped down with supplies and Draco’s selected paranormal equipment.  The light filtering through the forest’s canopy took on an eerie glow as they set off down the trail, but the forest seemed not unlike most others, dark and quiet and peaceful.

 

Draco’s lack of complaining surprised Charlie, as much as Draco’s willingness to carry his share.  His full pack was complemented by the camera around his neck and the energy monitor in his hand.  The cool morning reddened the apples of Draco’s cheeks.  Charlie wondered why he noticed.

 

He also remembered the bold flash in Draco’s eyes when he reminded Draco that this was going to be dangerous, was he really sure he wanted to risk it.

 

“Of course,” Draco responded.  “It will be worth it.”

 

“Even if you disappear forever?” Charlie countered.

 

“But I won't,” Draco replied, lips upturned at the corners.  “That's why you're here,” he countered.

  
Charlie exhaled, shook his head to clear the argument he wanted to have with Draco, and started walking into the forest.


End file.
